The Unbreakable Vow
by TheSlytherinMarauders
Summary: When a new serial killer is introduced to the wizarding world and Hermione and Draco are forced to work together on the case, they begin to unravel secrets about the people they thought they knew, including themselves. Please R and R!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not, under any circumstances, own any characters or really much of anything in this story. You have J.K. Rowling to thank for the wizarding world.**

**A/N: HI GUYS! I am the first to admit that I can't believe I'm writing another story, but I have been reading some seriously good fanfics lately and it made me remember how much I loved writing them. First off, obviously school is in session and it will be hard to update during the week. BUT, I will try my very best to update weekendly. And second, I really really really want and would love to have… a beta reader. I understand if you don't have enough time to help me with that, but if you do, then PLEASE I would love to have you be a part of my story. All I ask is that you make this process easier, not harder, on me and that you give me time to read your work eventually. It doesn't matter to me if you've never done it before, only that you know something about punctuation and are a Harry Potter lover :) Thanks so much for reading my last fanfic **_**Taken **_**and I hope you enjoy this one as much as you seemed to like that one. –TheSlytherinMarauder (Yes, I'm sorry I did change my name for reasons I cannot mention ;)**

Prologue

Ron's Betrayal

The cloaked figures circled around the frightened boy.

It was obvious he had been beaten; his wounds were as severe as the few scratches on his face to the deeper wounds on his arms and back. His clothing was so ripped, they appeared to be see-through and his eyes were cracked and dry from tears. One shadow moved closer, wand out-stretched and rigid, but eyes calm and even though he knew it was worthless to flinch, the immobile boy did.

"I'm so sorry to have to meet you like this, but I'm afraid you gave me no other choice," the dark wizard whispered. "I know Lucius tried to contact you before, but when you decided to run I knew I would have to meet you face to face." His voice rough as gravel. Voldemort inched closer and the petrified child could only stare.

"My Lord, let me explain to him. Let me tell him why I must do this to my son," Lucius rasped. "Please, he must understand."

"Very well," Voldemort agreed. He reached down and removed his gag from his parched mouth. As soon as it left his lips, he screamed in protest.

"Please! Please let me go! Don't-" he struggled to get out before a cruel looking witch gasped.

"How DARE you interrupt the Dark Lord! _Crucio_!" Bellatrix screeched. The victim opened his mouth and let out a howl that could heard from all about the house. He writhed on the floor violently, blood trickling from his mouth.

"Bellatrix! Enough! I need him conscious and healthy!" Lucius demanded. Her smile vanished and she lowered her wand; a grim sparkle in her eye. Lucius met the captive's eyes once more and began to explain the reasons for why he had done this. "I need to you to know I wouldn't do this if there wasn't any other way. I need you to understand that I wouldn't make you do this to help anyone else but my family." He waited calmly for the boy to nod. When his head didn't move he sighed and pressed on. "My son Draco, as you know, has been a part of many of the Dark Lord's plans in this war. So many, in fact, that his only option is to join us, or to be killed for he knows enough about us to be a threat if he so desired. My son, unfortunately, refuses to follow in my footsteps and become a Death Eater. However…" He paused to check and see if he was still listening. "The Dark Lord has decided that I may go to extreme lengths in order to get Draco to join our side for he has valuable insight that could be pertinent to destroying Harry Potter. I want you to frame my son for murder. If he realizes that he is in danger of going to Azkaban, that he could be killed for being on your side, he will want to have an initiation. I'm sure of it."

He looked into Ron Weasley's eyes, which had gone wide from a mix of horror and shock. "Still, one murder will not be enough. My boy is smart and charming and I'm positive he will be able to escape his sentence if it is only one life that is taken. The catch here Mr. Weasley, is that I need you to kill five people in order for the public to truly believe that he is a dangerous serial killer. And then, when he agrees to join us, you will take his place and serve his sentence in prison." The answer from Ronald was astounding and even he didn't know where his bravery came from.

"No! No way! I'm not going to Azkaban for Malfoy. I wouldn't even give him the time of day if he asked!" he sputtered. Lucius chuckled without humor.

"I feared you would feel this way… Mr. Weasly, let me make one thing clear. If you refuse to do this job for me or if you tell anyone of this meeting, we will hunt down and kill every last one of your family members. Yaxley will kill Molly and Arthur. Fenir will murder Fred and George. I will kill Percy and Bellatrix… Bellatrix will murder Ginny."

"I swear to you if you touch them I'll find you. I'll kill you myself. I'll make sure you die you vile, son of a-" Ron's threats echoed through the halls.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort roared. After a lengthy pause, Lucius spoke again.

"I don't want to have to hurt your family Ronald, but I will if I must. I promise," Lucius said. "Once Draco becomes a Death Eater, you will take his place in prison. No questions asked. And if Draco still refuses to join our side, I will ask you to kill him. However I am positive that it will not come to that. Do we have a deal?" Ron's face was wet with new tears and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. "_Do we have a deal_?" he asked again. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, fearing he had couldn't say no.

"Yes. I don't have much of a choice, do I? He asked stupidly. Lucius shook his head.

"I'm going to ask one more thing of you. Forgive me, but I need to ask you to make the Unbreakable Vow." Ron cringed and had hoped with all his life that it wouldn't come to that. He could have run with his family, saved them from these harsh truths. But he nodded curtly and Fenir helped him to his feet roughly. They both made eye contact and slowly crept their forearms closer to each other. They gripped the opposite limb and Ron closed his eyes. Bellatrix positioned her wand above were they held each other and suddenly two strands of light wrapped around their arms.

"Do you, Ronald Weasley swear to follow Lucius's and my orders, to kill five victims in order to save Draco's life?" Bellatrix hissed.

"I promise," he choked out.

"And do you, Mr. Weasley promise to kill Draco if Lucius so asks you to do so?"

"I will."

"Finally, do you swear to keep this plot a secret from everyone that is not present in this very room?"

"I will." The bonds of light gripping them tighter until they were finally released and the indentations were prominent. Before Ron let go, Lucius leaned down.

"There's always a choice Ron. Always. Thank you for making the wrong one."

Bellatrix perked up again when the spell had been completed and awaited Lucius's command. He sighed, letting all his tiredness show on his aging face. "Alright Bella, you can take him." She jumped with joy giggling slightly, and seized Ron by the hair against his protests, pulling him back into the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. As soon as they were out of sight, Lucius turned to Yaxley.

"Yaxley, I need you to watch Ron. Take care of him. Make sure he doesn't get into trouble or be killed for any reason unless by my command. "

"Of course, sir. I'll look after the blood-traitor." Lucius nodded and watched Yaxley scurry around the corner. He had almost forgotten Voldemort was there until he spoke.

"I'm proud of you Lucius. Your courage is inspiring," He told him.

"That's hardly true my Lord," He insisted. Voldemort shrugged.

"I will leave you to your thoughts." His cloak billowed out behind him and he turned and walked away from him, through the Manor. After he left, Lucius walked over to the far corner of the room. One might think he was there to use the parchment on the desk or to send a letter with the owl perched on the shelf next to it that whimpered quietly. But Lucius instead, turned his back to the corner and sank to the floor. He said a quick silencing charm and then he put his face in his hands. He couldn't control his sobs anymore and he let his emotions seep out of him like he had wanted them to the moment he saw Ron Weasley.

"What have I done?" He asked himself. "What have I done?"

**A/N: I really hope you guys like this! Please give me your feedback and IF ANYONE would like to be my beta reader, PM me ASAP. Thanks so much!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this story, especially not the fantastic characters… *sigh***

**A/N: So, it's been a little crazy lately with school and obviously Christmas, but here I am with the first official chapter! Hope you like it.**

Chapter 1

Piper Waldera

"_No! _NO! Absolutely NOT! I won't have it! We went through this last time, Scrigamour; I will not work with that vile, slimy rat again!" Hermione Granger said just a little too loudly as she hunched over a creaky hospital bed to examine the young woman who claimed she had dragon pox. She frantically wiped her slightly untamed brown locks out of her chestnut eyes. Hermione let out a breath and tried to ease herself into calmness. The aging Minister of Magic peered down at her and Hermione could feel the hole his gaze was burning between her shoulder blades. "I respectfully decline your request to work with Draco Malfoy. I don't care how damn good he is at his job or the opportunities this could present in the future. It's not worth the stress or frustration. You can find someone else."

"Ms. Granger, I'm sorry, but that won't be possible. Mister Malfoy has already turned down all the other healers except for one. Her name is Millicent Bulstrode, and despite her current job occupation as a Healer, she is quite under qualified for the case I want you to handle. And between you and me, I think Malfoy just wants to get into her pants more than anything," Scrigamour finished with a scowl. Hermione grumbled under her breath and reached down to lift up the victim's shirt slightly to check for signs of the sickness. Damn this new Auror law to hell. When the minister passed the new regulation almost a year ago saying that any Auror must be accompanied by an experienced Healer when working a case assigned by the Ministry, she and Draco had been paired up quite a lot. She knew it was for their safety and protection, but she couldn't stand to be his partner on yet another case.

Hermione stopped and questioned what she just heard. "Wait, Malfoy has _requested_ to be with _me_? You do realize he hates me, right? He was only kidding when he said he wanted to work this case with me. If he did, he's only doing so to torture me. He's Malfoy!" Scrigamour shook his head.

"Whatever the reason for his actions, it doesn't matter in the least because the case will be solved and the murderer will be caught," he told her. "Hopefully before anyone else is killed…" he added as an afterthought, as if that part didn't really matter to him at all.

"What if I say no?" she challenged, taking her hands off the woman to dry them on her smock.

"Obviously, Ms. Granger, you will be fired." He paused before turning around. "It will be a shame to lose you; you've done great work here." As he was walking away, Hermione quickly ran through her options. Her job was the best and most satisfying part of her life. She prided herself in being a Healer not just in Wizarding communities but in Muggle societies as well. She loved her job more than anything and even though she could probably find another one within the month, she didn't want to leave the people she had come to befriend in the hospital. Her palms started to sweat and she gulped in some air before she made the decision that would change her life.

"When do I get to see the Ferret?"

…

One of the things Draco Malfoy hated desperately about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the annoying little fact that you could not apparate on the school grounds. This rule was the reason the brilliantly blonde Malfoy was absolutely filthy when he walked into Professor McGonagall's room. He hated traveling by Floo Powder and had never really seen the reason to learn how to do it neatly because there was always the other option that he immensely preferred.

Before he could clean himself off, however, a bright and clean witch entered the room with her nose in the case file. He smirked at the sight; some people _never_ change. But then his eyes widened and he remembered his current state and hastily tried to retrieve his wand from his pocket before Hermione noticed him. To his dissatisfaction however, his leg caught the corner of the table and Hermione's eyes darted to his in surprise. Malfoy finally wrenched his wand from his pocket and said a quick cleaning spell, but not before his partner started to laugh.

"Charming, Malfoy, you clean up well," she said with a grin.

"Shut up, Granger, even covered in dirt I look better than you," he said to rectify himself. That slapped the smile clean off her face and she remembered that she hated him with all her heart. Before she could retort however, Albus Dumbledore began to glide over to them. "God, he's still _alive_?" Malfoy muttered to himself. This didn't go unnoticed by Hermione and she promptly kicked him in the shin.

"I see you two are getting along nicely," he said in his buttery voice. Malfoy snorted. Dumbledore ignored this and gestured to the body that was covered in a white tarp. "The young lady you see before you was Piper Waldera. She resided in Slytherin House. Around a quarter past five this morning, Professor McGonagall found her in this very spot, when she entered her classroom to finish grading term papers." He turned to face them now, regret in his story eyes. "The guardians were notified just an hour ago and they should be arriving before noon. Please, find out who killed her and stop this before it goes further." He then strode out of the door.

Hermione slowly was filled with memories of being in this room. More than ten rows of school desks and chairs basically lined her old Transfiguration class with one large desk in front. The cold, stone walls surrounded the classroom, making it seem only more evil in the chamber.

"Well, if she was in Slytherin, maybe she deserved to die," Malfoy droned. Hermione gasped and punched him in the shoulder.

"How can you say that! Honestly Malfoy, grow up a little bit! We graduated almost six years ago!" she asked. He shrugged.

"It's not like we were a big bowl of sweets. We were terrible people and most of us should have been expelled for all the things we did. _Especially_ in the…" he trailed off when he saw Hermione's glare and put his hands up in defense. "At least I can admit it. You Gryffindors were always so damn bloody _proud_." But Hermione wasn't listening anymore. She was walking delicately over to the dead student to lift the tarp from her mutilated body to see what had become of her. Slytherin or not, she deserved justice. Hermione bent down until she was kneeling over the fallen girl and began to look more closely.

_Ligature marks on the arms and the chest suggest torture and effort into the kill. It would take time to do something like this as well. Bits of residue or potion on the robes…_

Malfoy's whistling shook her from her thoughts. She looked up and made eye contact with the monster and scowled.

"What? Can't make a little music while the nerd solves the case for me?"

"If you even think that is what's going on here then you are mistaken. You are going to help me and you are going to enjoy every minute of it!" she frantically whispered at his looming figure.

"You promise?" he asked darkly and suddenly he was way too close to her and she became trapped between a rotting corpse and a smiling Draco Malfoy. Hermione stood sharply and pointed her wand at his neck and shoved him into the wall. Irritatingly enough, however, he kept his composure the whole time.

_He is way too used to that…_

Hermione's eyes flitted back over to the body and she stepped away. She returned to her original position over the corpse when she noticed she really couldn't detain much else on her own and she would get more information anyway from the autopsy file… She took a deep breath, counted to ten, and rose from her position.

...

The air was crisp and uninviting as Hermione opened the windows of her apartment in an attempt to filter out the stale smell of her living quarters. She was freshly showered and ready to spend countless hours familiarizing with the case when there was a rough knock on the door. She grumbled to herself and jogged to the door, throwing it open.

"Yes?" she said and then frowned at the person standing there. Malfoy.

"Expecting someone else, Granger?" he asked.

"No, I wasn't. I just wasn't expecting _you_. What do you want?" she snapped. Malfoy's face dropped.

"I was just here to give you the autopsy report and the victim's personal file," he told her. Her eyes lifted and she reached out. "But no, don't let me spoil your evening. I'll just go and look at this myself and call you if I find anything tomorrow. Or the next day…" He turned and started to leave.

"Wait, Malfoy. It's been a long day and…"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm making it worse. It's fine, I get it," he said, still walking away. She shook with anger. She knew what he wanted and she was going to have to give it to him for the file.

"I'm sorry, alright?" He stopped, spun, and stepped back onto her landing.

"Really?" he asked, batting his eyelashes.

"Yes. I'm positive. Now can I _please _have the files?" she pleaded. He rolled his eyes and handed her the parcel. He began to walk down the flight of stairs again and she shut the door quietly. She had just begun to open the manila folder when there was another knock on the door.

"What in the name of Merlin could you possibly want Malfoy?" she asked when she opened the door again. Fortunately, the visitor wasn't the Slytherin, but instead two Gryffindors.

"Bloody hell Hermione, if you want us to go we can…" Harry started to say, but didn't even have a chance to turn around before she was throwing herself at him. She entangled her arms around his neck and held on so tight that he had to loosen her grip before she killed him. "It's good to see you too."

"What about me? Do I get a hug?" Ron asked from the corner. She made her way over to the Weasley.

"Of course Ron," she whispered. When she let go and everyone was seated on the couch by the fireplace, Harry spoke again.

"It's good to be back Hermione. America was great, but it was so different and so far away from everyone. I really missed you guys." Harry had recently taken up and maintained Hermione's S.P.E.W. legislation after Dobby's death and traveled to many countries to teach and even reinforce it. Hermione winced.

"I'm really glad you're here, Harry, and it's good to see you, Ron, but I have a lot of work to do that can't wait," she told them, the words spilling out of her mouth like scalding water. Ron looked upset, but Harry, as usual, looked intrigued.

"What is it?" he inquired, excited. Hermione sighed. The case was classified, but she could use some help and it wouldn't hurt to tell them.

"Well, Dumbledore and Scrigamour seem to think there is a killer at Hogwarts," she blurted. Harry gasped and Ron's jaw dropped to the floor.

"_You're _working that case?" Ron demanded. The brunette frowned.

"Yes, I was just assigned this morning with _Malfoy,_ no less. How did you know about it? It hasn't reached the papers yet; not until tomorrow morning," she questioned. Ron stumbled over an answer, kicking himself mentally.

"My dad told me about it. He said some people were talking about it this morning at work," he lied and let out a breath. Hermione nodded, that made sense since Arthur worked at the Ministry.

"Hmm. I would have thought they'd be more careful with it," she wondered to herself.

"Yeah, me too," Ron muttered absently.

"Hold on, did you say you were working with Malfoy?" Harry asked. Hermione grimaced and bobbed her head.

"I am, actually. It's awful, truly awful," she relayed to them. It was quiet for a few moments before Harry saw the files. She stood and blocked his path. "I'm sorry, I can't let you see those, but I can tell you what happened as far as I know." They agreed and Hermione told them about Piper Waldera.

…

Between the hours of one and three is when Draco Malfoy is, and will remain, most terrified of his father. The majority of their quarrels occurred in this time frame and also most of Draco's wounds as well. This constant terror of the unknown is what made him move out at seventeen. It is what made him stay away from the Manor at all costs and it is also why he put a series of enchantments around his small home to prevent what just came to pass. What started out as a loud conversation was rapidly becoming a violent duel.

"I told you! That's not what I want for my life, for myself!" Draco yelled. Lucius was swiftly advancing, wand raised. "It shouldn't be what you want either!"

"_Expelliarmous_," Lucius muttered before Draco could open his mouth again. His wand shot out of his hand and hit a mirror hanging on the wall, shattering the glass.

"I realize you don't agree with me, but we have to come to some term of understanding. I will _never _become a Death Eater. I could never do something so horrible to mum, or to you, or to myself."

"_Diffindo!" _he snarled, cutting open his son's cheek and said it again to split open his arm. He let out a cry and fell backward, onto the broken glass, severally cutting his forearm. On the ground, he watched as blood trickled down his face and dripped off his chin onto the dusty, wood floor; this was a sight he knew well.

"I don't care how much you hurt me, how many curses you throw my way," Draco spat, his voice growing steadily louder with every word until he was shouting. Though he was on the ground, he suddenly appeared larger than his father. His words were rising up and stretching to great heights and quite frankly, scaring the hell out the Lucius. "I'm making the RIGHT FUCKING CHOICE!" he screamed with all his might. "It's _you_ who made the wrong one and I shouldn't be punished for the stupid, childish decisions you made that ruined _your_ life!"

"_Incendio!" _Lucius growled fiercely. Draco's robes caught fire and he had to scramble for his wand that had been cast aside in the pile of glass shards. Draco felt as if he was immune to pain now, the glass in his hand was second nature. His father must have let him get it out of sheer pity because he got his wand in his hand before Lucius cast another spell.

"_Aguamenti,_" he said, killing the flames and soaking his frame, sending a cool and refreshing feeling slithering over his body. "I'm not joining you father," he said with defiance and he slowly crawled his way to his feet. Lucius winced but paused for a moment. "Or Voldemort." The calm that had pacified the elder for a moment was now gone.

"Don't say his name! Don't you ever say his name!" Lucius was so filled with rage at his ignorance that it was boiling over the sides and escaping into the world. Draco erected himself, growing taller and more powerful than his father. The whole left side of his face was covered in blood and his arm that he had fallen on was hanging loosely in a way that made him realize it was broken. His black robes were ripped and glass was coming out of not only his face but his hands and trousers as well. The cuts on his cheek and arm would scar and would surely cause some stares in public, but that was no matter to him now.

Still, the most terrifying part of him was his eyes, grey and stormy but filled with loathing and determination. Lucius almost smiled at the man his son was growing up to be, the man he always wished for him to take the form of. He felt himself lean against the wall for support. He knew his son was right; the choice he had been forced to make at the age of twenty-five, not much older than Draco, was the wrong one, but if he didn't do this to his son the Dark Lord would soon discover Lucius's views on the war and kill him himself. Lucius took one look at the pain, misery and horror he had caused his boy and he couldn't handle the feeling it gave him in his heart.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" he shrieked and his son fell to the floor and there was a sickening crunch as his back landed on the glass. Feeling as if all the energy had been drained from him, he knelt by his son, sadness in his eyes.

"I'm doing everything I can to protect you, why can't you listen to me? I'm trying to save you. I'm trying to help you," he whispered. "Because if I don't, I'm afraid no one will."

**A/N: After many hours of work, the first official chapter is done. Thank you so much **_**Silvore**_** for being my lovely betareader and for helping me finish chapter one. R and R!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Unless I had a spirit transfer recently, I'm not J.K. Rowling and never will be. I'm just a lowly teenager writing fiction on her computer.**

**A/N: Chapter two is here; hope it was worth the wait!**

Chapter 2

The Ossuarium

It doesn't happen very often in life that you meet a pair of people so perfectly harmonized, so irrevocably in love, that it makes you jealous just by looking at them. Sometimes people go a lifetime without seeing real adoration between two mortals. But for those lucky enough to see a bond such as this in the hearts of others, know just how fast that fire can fade and just how fragile and fleeting it is on this earth. At any time that flame inside them can be ripped apart and broken, until all that is left is the smoke of what may have been a dream.

In the dead of winter, on January second, the fire that had once been inside Peter and Olivia Waldera left with the death of their only daughter, as swiftly as it had come. Now, as they waited in the Headmaster's office, Peter did not hold his wife as she cried softly, nor did he reach out and place false hope in her mind that this all had been a big misunderstanding. He stood silently, a ghost of a man, as still as any statue. He did not cry or yell or even move, as he waited for the news that was sure to come. It was that moment that an Auror and an out-of-place Healer entered the chamber, bearing knowledge of their child's murder.

"Would you care to sit down?" Draco asked when I shut the door. Wordlessly, the pair lowered themselves carefully into the seats, as if they were made of china.

"Before I give you full disclosure of the investigation Mr. and Mrs. Waldera, I want to expressive my vast condolences for the loss of your daughter. The pain you are feeling now should never be felt by any parent in the world and I promise you we will find the person who did this to your family," Draco said. Hermione had to admit she was shocked at his little speech and this caused her mouth to drop open for a few seconds before she regained her composure.

"Mr. and Mrs. Waldera, I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions about Piper," Draco told them cautiously. He waited for their consent, which was given by the father, and preceded."Did Piper ever mention that she'd had any problems at school? With any students or staff?"

There was a beat of silence before Olivia answered. "No, she never had any problems with anyone; she loved Hogwarts," she said quietly. "It was like her safe haven."

Draco nodded. "Did she ever tell you if she was in a relationship with someone? Or if she had recently gotten out of one?"

"No, she wasn't that type of person. She was shy and hardly outgoing; she only had a few friends," Peter said, his voice bitter. The wife turned and glared at him.

"Don't say it like that. She was a wonderful girl," Olivia retorted to him harshly.

"Well, maybe if she had been a little more social and wasn't always reading those damn books, she wouldn't have been killed!" he spat back and Hermione flinched.

"How dare you suggest Piper was anything but perfect? She is our _daughter_! You are her _father_!" she said, her voice like acid.

"Was," he murmured to the floor.

"What?" she asked.

"She _was_ our daughter. I _was_ her father," Peter said. Olivia's eyes were brimmed with tears and she tore out of the room. Peter stood up, agitated, and looked at the two inquisitors. "Do you have any more questions?" They both shook their heads without any hesitation.

"No, Mr. Waldera, you can go," Draco said. Peter nodded and headed out the opposite way his wife had left.

"That was dreadful," Hermione whispered once they had exited Dumbledore's office.

"I told you not to come," Draco berated. "It's not easy to be the one to talk to the relatives. That's why people like you should stay in the morgue or wherever the hell you came from." Hermione's first instinct was to argue his point, but in all reality, he was right. She shuddered just thinking about the possibility of something like this ever happening to her family.

"I probably should go back to the hospital and take a better look at the body. I told Macy I would be there around three," she said.

"Sounds good. Just let me know if you find anything new or make any progress," Draco said before aparating into space, becoming smaller and more distant with every step.

…

What most people don't know about St. Mungo's and what Hermione only found out a few years earlier is that beneath the initial floor there is a level only authorized witches and wizards can enter. In the general public, this type of room would be called a morgue, but to the people who were warranted to go inside, it was called the Ossuarium. Even though the rooms below the ground floor reeked of death and were filled with hundreds of unidentified bodies and dozens more that had died from mysterious circumstances, Hermione felt adrenaline pump through her body and determination enter her mind every time she entered the Ossuarium chambers. She knew that with every breath she took there and with every moment she spent investigating the deceased, she was bringing truth and peace to the victims.

The only other person Hermione was acquainted with that knew about the Ossuarium was Macy, her assistant of sorts. Although Macy was very talented and honestly, quite brilliant, she was the most clumsy and intensely _literal _person she had ever met.

"Macy! I'm here," the healer called out to the dark before switching on the harsh light. The room was filled with the numerous case files; the victim's medical history lied on the metal tables along with several whiteboards and of course, the bones of what once were a person. "Macy?" she said again.

"Yes! Yes, sorry!" She heard her voice from behind her, followed by a crash and a few choice words. When she came into view, Hermione saw that she was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. The same pale uniform robes covered with a white lab coat that reached her knees and her long brown hair was still slicked back into ponytail revealing electric blue eyes and a wide smile that stretched across her clear face.

"Macy… Tell me you didn't stay up all night working," Hermione said accusingly, trying to hide the smile that dared to escape. Macy pinched her lips together guiltily.

"I, in fact, did stay up all night," she said, unashamed. Hermione sighed.

"Well, then you must have made progress. What did you find out?" Macy sucked in a gulp of air before answering. Hermione sat back in one of the chairs preparing to listen to her findings.

"First I looked through the victim's medical history and checked the body to make sure the documentations from the hospital were correct and can confidently conclude that this is Piper Waldera. When she was seven, she broke her posterior humerus falling off her bike and when she was nine she fractured her left femur when a kid at school pushed her off the top of the slide at her school's playground. The body shows signs of the same injuries and the calluses on the bones fit with the timeline…"

_A broken arm and leg is enough to tell the minister this is Piper and not someone that used Polyjuice Potion…_

"Once I confirmed this was Piper using the X-rays and before I removed the flesh, I noted serious ante-mortem bruising on her wrists and neck. Also, there were some skin cells under her fingernails that I sent in for testing. Then I removed the body tissue and started too looked more closely. We had assumed Piper was murdered with the killing curse, and this is correct, but there was also a scuffle before her death. The skin under her nails, the bruising, and what I found next validate this." She then pulled up on of the X-rays taken of her torso and Macy pointed with her finger at what she saw there and then gestured to the bones as well so Hermione could better see her find.

"You see the three cuts to the sternum, her left first rib, the left fifth rib, and the right seventh rib? I hypothesize the killer attacked her first with a knife and then failing, resorted to ending her life with their wand," Macy finished, leaving Hermione was confused.

_But why would that happen? And why aren't the attacks localized, but instead all over her ribcage? A struggle doesn't make sense…_

"That's extremely unlikely," Hermione imagined and Macy frowned.

"On what evidence are you basing your reasoning?" Hermione chuckled and closed her eyes.

"I don't need facts to draw that conclusion."

"But then how-"

"Why would they use a knife or any weapon at all, other than a wand?" Hermione interrupted. "It leaves more evidence and it's more risky. A wand is the fastest, cleanest, and easiest way to commit murder," Hermione said. Macy shrugged.

"I don't know_ why_, I just know how," Macy told her. Hermione put her hand on her shoulder, still looking at the bones.

"You're right. Good work, I'm impressed," Hermione pronounced. She still didn't understand the killer's reasons or methods, but standing here asking Macy wasn't going to help her. "I'm just going to review the bones myself and see if there is anything else we can learn from them."

"Okay, I'm just going to go home to shower and change, and then I'll meet you back here by dinner." With that, she turned on her heel and marched out the door, leaving Hermione alone in the Ossuarium.

…

"Excuse me, do you know who you're talking to? Do you understand what I could do to your _career? _How fast I could make your life a living hell? I could have you on the street by sun up tomorrow!" Draco Malfoy boomed to the head of security of St. Mungo's hospital. The light was starting to fade outside as day turned into night, the stone walls echoing his voice. Several kids stopped to watch to squall before their parents pushed them away telling them it was rude to eavesdrop. "You tell me where I can find Hermione Granger or I will bury you alive in the well you are digging yourself!"

"I'm sorry sir, but you don't have authorization to go below main floor. I don't care if the minister himself wants access; he has to have clearance," the man retorted. Draco threw up his hands in frustration.

"_I'm pretty sure I could murder this man_…" Draco thought.

"Then go down there and tell her I want to see her!" he responded. "Tell Hermione Granger that Draco Malfoy,_ accomplished Auror_, would like to talk with her. Got it?" The guard's eyes were slowly growing larger and angrier by the second.

"Do you think _I_ have clearance to go down there? Are you really so mentally handicapped that you need _me_ to tell you that?" he thundered. Before another word could be said Draco's wand was out and ready, when a figure emerged from the stairwell leading to the forbidden level.

_"What the bloody hell is going on up here?" _the brunette almost screamed. "You do realize I can hear you to _in the dungeons?_"

"Hermione, thank Merlin, this man was telling me I didn't have authorization to go down there, but I know he was mistaken because you were just on the floor apparently _no one_ in this Godforsaken hospital has access to," he said, relieved. Hermione raised an eyebrow and looked at the crowd that was beginning to form around them.

"As a matter of fact, and I know this is going to be hard to believe but he's right. Only people with special permission can go into the Ossuarium; including me."

"The Ossu-what?" Draco asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry about you not having authorization. I'll get it for you as soon as possible. For now, I can only tell you what I know."

...

Several hours later, after Hermione had retold and explained what Macy had deduced countless times, Draco finally understood or stopped pretending to be confused, one of the two. They had had to wait for the minister and the doctor in charge at St. Mungo's to give Draco entrance into the levels below. It was a little past midnight and it was safe to say everyone above them had long gone home. Hermione could tell even Draco was tired and every now and then her own eyelids would droop.

"I'm heading home Malfoy; I'm too exhausted to be of any more use," Hermione yawned. "You should head home too Macy. Don't you dare stay up all night!" she yelled down the hallway to her assistant's office and Macy stuck one hand out of her door to let her know she had heard her request.

"Can't take the work, Granger?" Malfoy scoffed, but it was strangled because of the yawn that followed.

"No, I'm just scared if I stare at your face for another minute tonight, I'll have nightmares for weeks," she said with a smirk.

"We wouldn't want that now would we?" he smiled, and Hermione couldn't help but notice it didn't quite reach his silver eyes.

Before he left, however, Hermione couldn't help but ask. It had been bugging her all day and she needed to know. "Malfoy, what happened to you? Don't deny it. I know you have scratches and cuts and God knows what else under those enchantments you put on yourself." The silver that had once been calm flashed in his eyes. "I know that-"

"You don't know _anything,_ Granger. Not one single thing about me," he said menacingly. "Don't pretend like you do. Don't pretend you know anything about something you couldn't possibly understand."

"I was just trying to-" she started.

"Help?" he finished for her. "I don't need your help or your pity. What I need you to do is solve this case like a good little Gryffindor, so I never have to see you again."

Hermione didn't even hear the door slam when he left the room. She was still standing in the same place ten minutes after he'd left and was still standing there after fifteen. What she didn't know was that a man with striking blonde hair and deathly pale skin was doing the same thing as she was, only one floor above.

**A/N: I'm not sure when the next time I can update is (most likely this weekend but no promises), but I hope you like this chapter! Also, thank you **_**Silvore,**_** my wonderful betareader, for continuing to be perfect!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: And the rights of Harry Potter are awarded to… J.K. Rowling!**

**A/N: I realize that it has been at least a month since I have done something productive concerning this website, but I have been extremely busy lately and when I did have time to write, I guess I was suffering from a mental block. I knew exactly where I wanted the story to go, but I couldn't figure out how to word the plot in between the major developments. But, here we are more than thirty day later with chapter three.**

Chapter 3

Ron, In the Forest, With the Wand

Beneath the shadows of the Forbidden Forest lurked countless mysteries that even the most intelligent witch couldn't dream up. It seemed as if the night stretched on forever below the canopy of trees that appeared to be watching silently. Here, no one would find them, for no one would dare venture beyond the safety of the castle's grounds and no one would have the need to. Though the forest was so thick and the blackness all but engulfed him, he still felt as if he could be seen for miles especially since his hair took on the form of a siren. He crouched low, careful not to trip over the gnarled roots and kept his eyes on the path before him. He had almost forgotten about the girl until her scream once again broke the night.

"Let go, please j-just let go!" she yelled as she fought for freedom. She writhed in his arms and lashed out; her hands grasping for anything, but only coming up empty and filling her nails with dirt.

"Will… You… Stop… Fighting!" Ron growled into her ear. He could smell the blood on her and wrinkled his nose. Sweat beaded at his brow and he fumbled in the darkness. Even without the light he could see the hope in her eyes as she scrambled to regain her balance and started to run. "Bloody hell…" He pulled himself up and raced after her. Branches cut at his face and he could hear the pounding of his heart as adrenaline pumped into his veins. Her head whipped around and her foot caught on the debris, sending her face first into the earth. He threw himself on top of her and wrestled her to the ground. His fist connected with her jaw again and again until he heard her skull crack. He dropped his arm and rolled off her, away from the crime that couldn't have been committed by him.

He had been ordered to refrain from using his wand unless in extreme circumstances because of the ability to trace the spells last used by the witch or wizard. He hadn't planned to use it the last time, but she had run and was too far ahead for him to catch up. The Dark Lord had been furious, but eventually came to the realization that if the girl had gotten away, he would have been discovered; complicating everything. She had been lucky, really; it had been fast and painless and he couldn't help but feel a little jealous of her to have been relieved so easily.

He bent over the body and struggled to keep the tears from falling from his eyes_. If she hadn't looked back. If she'd just kept on running, maybe she would have made it. _As he placed the clump of silver hair he'd brought in her throat and one strand in between her teeth, he realized he knew this girl. She had sat behind him second year in Charms and had once given him the answer to a question he hadn't known the answer to when Professor Flitwick hadn't been looking. He hadn't seen her again after that year and hadn't ever crossed his mind until just this moment. She wasn't too pretty, not too smart, and blended effortlessly into the background. But no one, no matter how much they resembled the wallpaper, deserved to die.

"I had to," Ron whispered. "I had to do it." He stopped, questioning his sanity for a moment before wondered why the hell he even cared anymore. "I had to do it for my parents. For Fred and George. For Ginny." He kneeled closer so he could see blue eyes that once were full of life. "For the Dark Lord."

…

The sun winked through the window pain and landed forgettablyon the small work desk that Hermione spent the entirety of her night on. She groaned and shifted out of the light, but was interrupted moments later by the shill sound of her phone. Her eyes opened and immediately discovered that sleeping upright all night was not her smartest idea. Her weary gaze landed on the paperwork she had tried to finish and on the empty ink bottles that were piled high next to the even taller tower of parchment. The phone's ring echoed again and she slinked her way to the kitchen, almost tripping over the books that lay strewn on the floor. She snatched her wand and heated up the leftover pot of coffee from the day before, taking a large drink. She tried to shake herself awake before grabbing the receiver, but who was on the other end of the line she could have waited and eternity to hear.

"Granger, they've found another body." Upon hearing these words, she promptly spewed the coffee from her mouth and onto the floor.

…

The wind nipped at her heels as Hermione walked down the hill towards the infamous Forbidden Forest. The Ministry had drawn a path that lit up the further you walked into the woods so that no one would be lost in the never-ending nightmare of trees. Dozens of doctors and Aurors flooded the crime scene and by his small, crumbling house, she could see Hagrid. He hadn't changed much since the last time she'd seen him, but even from a distance you could see that his face was ashen and grey. Malfoy had said it was Hagrid that discovered Isabelle Brown when he had gone out to check his unicorn trap early that morning. The time of death was only eight to ten hours prior and the thought made Hermione shudder.

"I-I just s-seen her lyin' there 'n I thought s-she just be as-asleep. But then I-I called to her 'n she jus' didn't wanna move…" Hagrid fumbled to try to find the words but it didn't matter anyway because no one could understand anything he was saying.

"What took you so long?" Malfoy asked when she finally got inside the forest. Hermione just stared at him until his smile faltered and he raised his hands in defense. "_Someone _is a little grumpy. Did you look in the mirror this morning by mistake?" Instead of responding she sank down over the girl and ran her eyes over her for clues.

_ Bruises and cuts perimortem on both forearms... Severe damage to the cranium and rib cage; I'd guess half the ribs are broken. Brain trauma was cause of death… No residue on robes like there was on the first victim…_

"Can you say something Granger, or do I have to interpret your facial expressions?" Malfoy said from behind her. She sighed and looked up at him.

"I can't tell you all that much accept…" she paused and her eyes narrowed.

"What?" Malfoy questioned. Hermione didn't answer, her attention was focused on the silver glint she saw peeking out from Isabelle' mouth.

"Hand me a forceps," she said quickly.

"A _what?" _

"A forceps?" she repeated. His face was still blank and she smirked. "A teensy weensy pinchers for the big girl pretty please?"

"No need to get sarcastic," he snarled. His hand groped the metallic tray that she'd brought and found them. He handed them to her and watched as she crept closer to the body. "What do you see?"

"I think," she paused as she gripped the short hair in the forceps. "I think I know how we can find out who did this."

…

An hour later, Hermione was shouting instructions to Macy in the Ossuarium and was running around frantic.

"Run the sample I gave you from Piper's robes and test it for lacewing flies! Get it back to me in ten minutes," she called again to her assistant.

"It will take at least eleven to process…" Macy started but Hermione was already shutting the door. She crouched back over the now steaming cauldron and muttered the ingredients again in her head. "Boomslang skin, Fluxweed, four leeches…"

"Hermione, Hermione, calm down okay? Breathe," Malfoy told her.

"You have no idea how important it is that I get this right do you?"

"Actually, besides the fact that you are making a Polyjuice Potion, I have no idea what is going on." She didn't answer right away, but when the potion began to bubble she turned and looked at him smugly.

"No idea _at all?_" she asked with one eyebrow raised. He shifted his feet and then snapped his fingers.

"Are you suddenly realizing that you actually care about your appearance and the only way you can get the opposite sex to like you is if you become someone else?" he asked, his eyes brightening. She frowned and was about to retort when Macy came sprinting out of the back room.

"It tested positive for lacewing flies." Hermione let out a breath and her smile emerged.

"Thank Merlin," she whispered and resumed her work. She stopped minutes later when she heard a tapping from underneath her chair followed by a loud whistling from behind her. "Do you mind?"

"Yes, I do mind that I'm being excluded from knowledge on my case," Malfoy said.

"It is not your case…" she began but stopped when Malfoy reached over and plucked a handful of the perfect leeches she'd found in Knockturn Alley and dumped them into her potion. The mixture turned a fiery red and smoke rose from it forming a cloud above their heads. It was a few seconds before she could speak. "I cannot… _Believe…_ You just did that," she said very slowly. Malfoy bent down so his hands were on the arm rests of her chair and leaned in.

"Then tell me what I need to know," he said happily. Though their faces were only inches apart, she was too angry to be embarrassed and her voice was like acid.

"In Isabelle's throat and in between her teeth I found all together six hairs. On Piper's robes we discovered a mystery potion that I wasn't able to identify until today. It was Polyjuice Potion and if the hairs in the second victim's throat were from her killer then we can uncover the murderer by making the potion with hairs in it. Someone will drink it and they will turn into whoever did this. Happy?" she finished.

"Immensely," he said snarkilyand pulled away.

…

"I trust your mission was successful," Lucius breathed across the room. Ron looked up from his lap and could almost feel his eyes against his skin. This might have been the only room in the Manor that wasn't decorated in the usual green and silver attire but in various blues and greens. Lucius noticed him looking at the walls and offered a small smile. "My present to Narcissa years ago was to choose the room she liked the best in the house and paint it for… Well it doesn't matter who for, what matters is if Isabelle Brown has been killed."

"Do you really think I'd come back if she wasn't dead?" Ron laughed without humor and to his surprise Lucius only laughed quietly beside him.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't, would you?" There was a long pause where none of their eyes met. After it seemed their conversation had ended, Ron turned to leave the room but glanced back when he had stepped outside the room.

"Why did you pick this room to speak to me in? If you didn't really want to talk about its story?" he asked. He hadn't at all been expecting an answer and wasn't disappointed because Lucius waved his wand and the door shut behind him. The Weasley began to leave again but was startled by the figure standing next to him. If you had known Narcissa before Draco was born and had just bumped into her on the street today, you wouldn't have stopped and chatted with her because there would be no resemblance at all for you to recognize her. Her face appeared to be hollow, as if she was being eaten alive from the inside out and her bones shot out at awkward angles. Her face a sickly white and hands shaking at her sides.

"I'm sorry, I was just leaving," Ron muttered before attempting to escape the room.

"Mr. Weasley, I feel as if I owe it to you to answer that question," she said; her voice powerful despite her frail appearance.

"You don't have—"

"But I want to my dear, for you are doing a great service to this family and deserve a simple answer." But by the way her voice cracked and her jaw hardened, he could see this was not simple, and had never been considered to be.

"Just a few years after Draco had been born, my only desire was to have another child. I remembered vividly how it had felt holding him for the first time and being able to tell myself that I was a mother. I recall thinking that it seemed impossible that someone so small was going to change my life." She paused, meeting Ron's eyes. "Lucius agreed. He too wanted another little boy or girl just as much as I, if not more. My birthday present that year was to pick a room to decorate for the new member of our family. The baby was conceived and the Healers said everything was going along fine and we made it three months before…" Before Ron could register his actions, he was walking over and placing his hand on hers as she cried. He lowered himself onto the brilliant green couch and waited.

"Voldemort… didn't like the idea of us having another child. He didn't like the complications it brought along. Another heir to the mansion that would cause distraction, another traitor to join Harry Potter's side… In other words, another threat. I was no longer pregnant at fifteen weeks." Her gaze locked with mine. "That's long enough to know its gender, to decide on a name. Lucius wanted to name our little boy Scorpius, but I disagreed. I thought a regular name, one that wasn't filled with malice, would do him good. We never had the chance to come to an agreement, but I can tell you I would have won." She smiled to herself, but then was silent for so long, Ron felt it was time for him to leave. He gently withdrew his hand from hers and stood. When he was almost out the door, she spoke again.

"I don't have a second child or a third or a fourth because of the man we follow and my husband must _worship._ You think we have it easy being on the evil side because we don't have anything to run from except ourselves? You think you get the hard part to play? Fighting for him is worse than you could ever imagine.

"No, I can't imag-"

"Well you better start Mr. Weasley, because you're over here with us now." The truth of her words chilled him to the bone and scared the hell out of him. "You and I? You and Voldemort? We're all fighting together, as one."


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, regrettably. **

**A/N: I have several excuses for why there ceased to be an update for months, but let's try to forget about that and focus on more important things like Hogwarts. **

Chapter 4

Wingardium Leviosa

"Malfoy, if you touch my cauldron one more time I'll hex you," Hermione snapped as Draco tried again to take the potion from her and finish making it himself. He couldn't explain why he did it really, only that the memories from Professor Snape's class were flooding back as the trio stood beneath St. Mungo's. Hermione was constantly stirring the concoction while simultaneously reading the Daily Prophet and Draco either paced or tapped his wand on the metal tables just for something to do. Macy was four tables from them muttering something from her book and every so often taking a long sip from her mug which, quite honestly, Draco didn't want to know what contained.

"Fine, fine. I just don't want to you to mess it up and make us start this whole process all over," he told her.

"Really Malfoy, you'd think you would have a little more confidence in me," she said without looking up. Truthfully, he knew she wouldn't ruin it and had a lot more faith in her than she would guess. He just wanted to feel like he was contributing instead of just staring into space while she worked.

"Do you know who you're going to get to drink it?" he asked because it was something that had crossed his mind. She looked up from the table and sighed.

"I don't know. Scrigamour said we have to get authorization and pass a bunch of papers through the Ministry before we get that far. They don't want to be liable for anything that might happen to the person that drinks it." A frown formed between his eyes while she spoke.

"I'd do it," he said, confused. "I'm sure you would too."

"You're right, it's not worth the trouble, but it's the way they want it, and I'm not going to argue."

"But it's going to take too much time—" he began.

"I know, but what are we supposed to do?" She had known it was a stupid question and wasn't disappointed by his answer.

"We take it. It only lasts an hour and as long as no one sees us, it doesn't matter," he offered, as if she hadn't already thought of that. She let out a breath and met his eyes.

"I'm afraid it's not going to be that simple."

…

The Ministry of Magic, as usual, was a blur of activity even at eight in the morning. The Minister himself had just arrived and had half a dozen people yell out information to him as he entered his chambers.

"The editor of the Daily Prophet wants to know if he can run that story about the attempted escape from Azkaban!"

"I got that interview you wanted from Rita Skeeter and she wants it to be in print by the end of the week!"

"Would you like any coffee this morning, Minister?" Scrigamour waved away their news and questions, and settled in his chair before closing the door with his wand. He immediately began shuffling through the stacks of papers and files that never seemed to get any smaller no matter how many extra hours he put in.

_The Daily Prophet wants to run another article on Dumbledore, bloody hell… Twins were expelled from Hogwarts for the use of underage magic… Elphias Doge passed away last month…_

Then there were the letters. Each letter was sorted upon arrival into a pile according to its contents. The amount of parcels varied from day to day, but on this morning there were only two envelopes sitting on desk. Curious, he snatched the closest one and began to read.

_To the Minister of Magic,_

_ I am writing to you today as a personal offering of assistance. Just yesterday the news of the deaths at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was published in the Daily Prophet and though it may not seem so now, this matter is urgent. I have experience and training in the profession of being an auror and am asking that you give me the chance to assist you in any way you deem necessary to solve these crimes. Please consider this as not an insult to your resources but an innocent bequest. _

_ Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_**Harry Potter**_

_** Co-founder and Representative of S.P.E.W International **_

The aging man read and reread the short letter before honestly considering the offer. The Minister had the highest regards for Mr. Malfoy and was confident he would do his job well, but the publicity that would be gained by using Harry Potter to catch a killer at Hogwarts… Well, that was tempting. Before making his decision, he reached for the other letter and frowned at its thickness. He ripped it open and found the signed release forms for an agent that had just agreed to take the Polyjuice Potion.

…

"You're wrong," Malfoy explained. "It'll take at least another week for the ingredients to condense and after that you'll have to let it brew for at least seven more days." He told her this as they walked into the hospital ready for another day in the Ossuarium.

"No, the instructions clearly say it only takes ten days to—"

"Hermione, would you shut up and listen to me for once in your life…" he trailed off as they both stepped through the heavy metal door and saw a familiar face leaning over the first victim, examining it. Their nose was so close to the girl's mouth that when they could easily have been pushed so that their face entered her throat.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Malfoy demanded. The intruder simply raised his head and smile widely at Hermione, before turning his green eyes on Draco in irritation.

"I was invited, Ferret. Scrigamour accepted my offer to be added on as an assist to the case, as well as my suggestion that I be the one to take the Polyjuice Potion. No need to thank me, but I do believe I saved you several weeks of paperwork, Malfoy," Harry Potter grinned. His face softened as he looked back at Hermione who was already walking into his arms. "It's good to see you too, 'Mione," he mumbled into her hair.

"You're just going to accept him? Without any proof?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "He could be an imposter trying to gain information on the case to give to the Ministry! Or to Voldemort!"

"Oh, don't be so thick Malfoy," Hermione said dismissively and she turned back to her friend. "Come on, I'll get you caught up," she said as she handed him two manila folders. As he leafed through them, she explained her theories and the evidence they'd recovered so far. Meanwhile, Draco took every opportunity to interrupt her with irrelevant questions directed toward the new member of their team.

"So that's when I came to the conclusion that—"

"How did you even get authority to be down here so _quickly, _I mean it took me at least…" he trailed off from his fifth interruption when Hermione met his eyes and her hand twitched towards her wand. "Hey, I'm just wondering how he managed to…" but he stopped talking when she roughly grabbed his collar and pulled him through the door into her office, shutting the door. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"What is wrong with you?" she asked. "What do you have against Harry helping us with the case?"

"Nothing except that the git has tried to kill me before, and I don't trust him. Just because he defeated Voldemort before he could walk doesn't mean everyone should accept him so easily," he said, his voice rising. "I mean look at all the people that died because of him."

"Don't you dare, don't you dare say that when you know it wasn't his fault," she whispered angrily. "He saved hundreds more by killing him and he tried to stop us from fighting, but when we wouldn't he gave himself—" she started.

"_I don't care what he's done! _Just because he's the damn Chosen One doesn't warrant his involvement in everything and doesn't mean he should be trusted or worshipped like a God," he spat.

"He _is not_—" she began, taking a step closer and gripping her wand.

"Hermione open your eyes, he's more famous than the Minister himself. He's got plenty of things to do besides help with a double murder, hasn't it crossed your mind why he wants to help us?" he almost yelled into her face.

"Because Hogwarts means so much to him, it's like someone is attacking his own blood," she countered, throwing up her hands and turning away from him only to whip back around as he spoke.

"Has it ever crossed your mind that it could be him? The people that were killed were in Slytherin and it's not a secret that he hates us!" he roared over her, but then reared back as she slapped him so hard he recoiled into the desk. His hand whipped to his face and he could feel his wounds that he'd covered with magic searing under her palm.

"Draco, I'm sorry I forgot—"

"It's fine," he said simply and turned his face to the floor. The room was silent for a moment.

"I understand why you don't trust him. I shouldn't have just expected you to accept him." Her voice was quiet and her face softened. "I shouldn't have been so quick to trust it either; it is suspicious that he was given the rights to the case without our involvement, but no matter how slimy Scrigamour is I do trust his judgment when it comes to this case." He noticed a change in her tone and raised his eyes from the ground. Her face had changed and she was pleading with him to give this a chance. To be honest, he was trying to keep the surprise out of his features because in all the years he'd known Hermione, he'd thought her innocent and easily controlled. Never once, in the cases they'd reluctantly worked together, had she started a war with him. Sure, she'd tried to insult him, even fought with him a couple times, but the realization of how stubborn and strong-minded she was hit him harder than she'd just struck his face. He finally understood she was waiting for a response and shook himself out of his head; away from his thoughts that he shouldn't be thinking.

"I'll try Hermione, for you. But if he says something against my family or me, I'm going to hex him." She nodded.

"Fair enough," she told him and she grimaced as she opened the door to what was sure to be an eavesdropping Harry Potter.

…

The pathway was dim as the two figures moved slowly through the forest. The constant sound of breaking twigs and ruffling of the dry grass was earthshattering to the predator as he dragged the girl towards the castle. Hogwarts loomed over them like the weight of a betrayal as the silent Weasley continued to forge a path on the grounds. When they reached the desired tower, Ron couldn't even look at the girl; he had only struck her once in the neck, but the motion of him pulling her out of the forest by her ankles had caused the blood to run from her throat and seep into her hair and dry on her face. The blood had created a red mask over the girl; so thick he didn't think it would ever come off, but that wasn't the worst of it. Underneath the blood he could see her eyes were still wide and her features were frozen in the scream that no one heard. Trying to get the picture of her out of his mind, he took out his wand and whispered an enchantment that caused the window above him to groan and swing open. He waited, holding his breath in case someone was to come and discover him, but all he heard was the wind blowing through the trees.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," he muttered when he was sure it was safe, making sure to pronounce every word exactly right. The body began to rise in the air; rigid at first, but as it flew higher in the sky it grew limp and her arms fell from her chest to hang limply at her sides. Her long brown hair hung coarse and twisted and the locks blew ever so slightly in the breeze. The corpse could now be seen from several windows in the castle and all across the grounds, but it didn't matter because no one was watching. No one knew. When she finally reached the top he maneuvered her through the open window and backed quickly away from the stone wall so he could see just enough of the room to know when to set her down. When she was hovering over the large wooden desk he began to lower his wand and heard nothing when she hit the surface except the soft tinkle of perhaps two vials knocking together.

After the window was shut, he backed away from the tower; gradually at first but then he broke into a run. He knew he had to get off the grounds and apparate before the sun broke over the Black Lake and students would be waking up. As he ran he tried to force himself to think about the future, about the fact that he only had two more to go before he was free and could take his family into hiding. He tried to stop himself from going back, from reliving the horrors that he had done but he couldn't.

_I did this for my family. Those girls didn't suffer, I was gentle. Think about the lives your saving, not the ones you've taken or are going to take. Maybe Malfoy will be framed before I have to kill anyone else. You were threatened. You had no choice. You've done nothing wrong. You have done nothing wrong. Nothing wrong…_

The comprehension of what he'd just done seized him and refused to let go as thoughts of dishonor and shame wracked his brain. It would be considered the highest disgrace and ignominy that had ever been seen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The story would be told for generations, long after he was dead and put into the ground. Everyone would remember Ronald Bilius Weasley, and not as a third of the Golden Trio. His name wouldn't be written down a thousand times in newspapers and even textbooks for his bravery with rising against Voldemort alongside Harry Potter during the Battle of Hogwarts or for what he had done as a student at the school. No one would care why he had done it, that he had had a responsibility to protect his family and a duty to save them from the darkest wizard of the age. It wouldn't even have mattered if his father was the minister or his mother had killed You-Know-Who single handedly because no one would ever forget this. No one could ever forget him. His name would live on forever as the wizard who had shamed his family and forsakened Hogwarts by laying a bloody, beaten student on the desk of Albus Dumbledore.


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Attention, this fanfiction will now be overseen by Joanne Rowling and all questions or comments should go directly to her—seriously do I need to keep saying that I don't own anything?**

**A/N: You are all going to close your eyes, step into my tardis, and go back several months to when I was actually a responsible human being so you can pretend that this was updated on time. Sound okay?**

**I'm sorry for the overdue update, I'm not promising regular updates but summer has arrived so it is a possibility. Also, I am in need of a new beta—this will also be a factor to help me post more regularly if I have help. If you are interested, shoot me a message and we can create magic without typos. **

Chapter 5

The Spiral Staircase

Life is all about moments.

The moment when you first hear someone tell you they love you followed by the silence that is filled with their heart beating in their ears as they wait for you to smile and say it back. The moment when you walk up to the front of the class to give a presentation on the cardio vascular system and you can feel the weight of the hours you've spent preparing dragging the words from your mouth. The moment that you watch someone walk away from you that you can't imagine trying to live without—there are so many moments. Not all of them you remember. Not all of them are important. But everyone has the moment that they call "theirs". Many of them are beautiful. Most of them are haunting.

Jackson Avery took little notice of the relentless snow that was drifting down from the sky at the time of day when the sun was only a rumor as he walked across the castle grounds. He stepped briskly, face glued to the ground and his hands grasped at the strong fingers that held his collar.

"I don't know _where _you got the brilliant idea to feed Filch's cat Polyjuice Potion and turn him into Professor Snape, but I assure you that after you spend the rest of your wizarding career in detention you won't think of doing anything this foolish again!" Professor McGonagall screeched as she pulled Jackson through the sound gates of the front entrance and began the long journey up the enchanted stairs. When they had reached the top, taken two left turns and a right, the end destination was in sight. Almost running now, the Professor let go of the boy's robes and gave him a second to catch his breath before turning to the large, spiral staircase.

"Pumpkin Pasties," she said and the great stone bird began to spin just as she pushed Jackson into the doorway. "I think a visit to the Headmaster will make you realize the severity of your careless decisions…" she trailed off when she knew he couldn't hear her anymore, adding the last part of how she hoped he was even in his office to herself. She turned on her heal to march down the corridor, her long, black robes trailing behind her.

…

"Oh, bloody hell," Hermione grumbled to herself as she looked into the microscope. Her curls were wrapped securely in a bun and her white lab coat hung rigid on her rounded shoulders. She adjusted the magnification and pressed her chocolate eyes to the glass again, but only groaned in disgust at the insignificant change that occurred.

_There are no abnormalities in the cells; however blood flow was present when her arms were cut which means the lacerations occurred before death… _

"For the love of Merlin will you _please_ stop talking to yourself, it's starting to make me think you can see all the dead people floating around in here," Malfoy whined. He sat behind her with his slender legs propped up on the autopsy table, surrounded by files that he has read to the point of memorization. Hermione gave no evidence to suggest she even heard him and began to move her slide to the right.

"Just a little more… Come on Isabelle, tell me something I don't know—" she started but stopped when Draco pushed his chair out from the table and a loud grating noise filled the morgue. His tousled hair was wild and his robes were wrinkled and limp. She looked up and gave him what she hoped was her most murderous glare. "What exactly is your problem?"

"My problem?" Malfoy yelled. "My problem is I'm sitting in a room filled with corpses and _YOU _WON'T LET ME LEAVE! This could be considered kidnapping, torture _and_ neglect, at least one and a half of which are felonies by the way, and seeing as you won't let me touch anything or do anything I'm going absolutely fucking crazy!" When he finished his face was red and he took a deep breath to make up for all the air he had sacrificed to scream at the healer. He had also advanced on her so that she had taken several steps backwards to counteract his many steps forward, but he was still very much too close to her for her liking.

"You need to be here to watch the potion, Malfoy. I can't do this all on my own,' she said calmly, still wedged between the wall and the fuming auror.

"What is Macy for!" he boomed. Down the hall, the petite scientist called from another room.

"I am used for my personal expertise in examining the deceased through forensic science!" she chirped, her voice innocent and sweet as syrup. Hermione nodded in agreement, trying not to notice how perfect his hair was or how he smelled like peppermint.

"Exactly. I need you here too."

"Why? I don't know how to analyze skin cells or whatever the hell you've been doing for the past hour." He had started to relax and she took it as a chance to slip out from his trap and sit back in her chair.

"Harry will be here soon and you'll have more cases to go over. Until then, watch the damn potion and don't judge my habits." She held his eyes to make sure it was understood, and then turned back to her work. In truth, she was beginning to be become wary of Harry's late arrival and wanted to look over the new information as soon as possible. It wasn't long after that she heard the light patter of Macy's footsteps down the hallway and suddenly she was in front of her with her wide, dazzling eyes and a smile that seemed to always be painted on her face.

"Here's the rest of the dirt found under the second victim's fingernails."

Meanwhile, a clever, young third year was still climbing his way up the magical staircase—getting closer to his own discovery.

…

"Did she say anything that was out of the ordinary? Even a small detail might help us," Harry asked, his words brimming with sincerity as he tried to ease Isabelle's parents through the painful process. The job of interviewing the still in-shock parents was happening early in the morning, before the staircase reached the top. Before McGonagall realized her mistake.

"No. In all her letters she sounded… happy. She was making friends, even talked about liking her classes," the mother said. "Her sister, she's a first year, even mentioned over Christmas that Hogwarts was like a second home to them." Harry's eyes flicked to the father who said nothing. In fact, he hadn't spoken for the duration of the meeting which didn't surprise him at all. He had seen cases where the parents lost all connection with reality and didn't care about anything anymore, not even their remaining families.

"Do you have anything to add Mr. Brown?" Harry ventured. The man's eyes moved and appeared to attempt eye contact but were unsuccessful. Harry frowned and then kicked himself for not reading the parent's file before sitting down to the meeting. His wife looked at her husband, took his face in her hands, and answered for him.

"No. That's all we have to say." Harry nodded and then realizing that one the two couldn't see him, said, "Thank you for your time." As he was rising to his feet and grabbing his coat however, the man spoke.

"She talked about the forest. About how she could see it from her window. She didn't understand how something so wonderful could be so dangerous. She wanted to see it," he stopped, the tears coming. "She wanted to feel its magic." He began to cry and just then it didn't matter that he was blind, that he couldn't see the world around him. It only mattered that he had lost a child. A child he had loved so fiercely. A child that he would trade his life for in an instant even though he had never seen her face.

…

"You realize you _can_ over stir a Polyjuice Potion," Draco grumbled as he moved the spoon in a circular movement.

"Just shut up and stir," Hermione said, bent over the bones of the first victim. Her forehead was furrowed and her mind was spinning as she thought of ways to connect the two girls. "How are they connected?" she finally asked Draco. He looked up, relived for an excuse to abandon his mundane job and do some actual work.

"They were both in Slytherin. The best and most handsome house at Hogwarts," he said proudly with a goofy grin that made Hermione crack a smile of her own.

"Besides the obvious. I mean, they were both in different years, liked different things."

"One had siblings and the other didn't, one was killed with the killing curse while the other with a knife," Draco added.

"Right, I can't think of more opposite girls," the healer complained. Malfoy paused and thought for a moment before looking up again.

"What if it's not the girls, but the places," he suggested slowly.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused. Draco stood, and walked over to her with a statement from Piper's parents that had been taken by a grief counselor.

"It says here, 'Piper was an excellent student. She really took to that woman… What was her name? McGon… McGonagall was it? I think so. She loved that class and wrote about what they did in almost every letter.'" Hermione's eyes lit up.

"What if it's the places?" she asked under her breath so only he could hear. She looked up at him and they locked eyes again from across the table. At first, it seemed natural. But after a while, when neither looked away and five seconds turned into thirty, they had made their own connection. Over an autopsy table no less and Hermione began to blush and he began to smirk and soon thundering steps could be heard on the stairs. They were still staring at each other when a breathless Harry Potter burst into the room, his features blazing and looking like he couldn't hold in what he wanted to say anymore.

"Isabelle Brown was in love with the Forbidden Forest," he blurted to the eye-locked pair. Draco raised an eyebrow. Hermione smiled.

"It's defiantly the places," she said, just as Jackson could see the top.

…

Professor McGonagall was just sitting down to morning breakfast, after already apologizing to Professor Snape and Filch for the student's reckless behavior. She poured her pumpkin juice, reached for a slice of coffee cake, and waited for the Headmaster to join her. He was always prompt to breakfast so he could speak to the children before the feast began, but today he had apparently lagged behind and they began the meal without him. Professor Flitwick came scrambling into the Great Hall, his short legs trying to keep up with the pace his mind had set for him to go. When he finally reached the table, McGonagall smiled and offered him a seat. He sat down, looking grateful for the chair, and began to grab at the fruit bowl.

"Flitwick, you haven't seen Albus today have you?" she asked. She needed to talk with him about the changes being made to the security of the castle and wanted to put it behind her as soon as possible.

"Actually, I am supposed to tell you a message from him. He says he's going to be late because 'he has to clean the sorting hat'. Makes no sense to me, I don't think I've ever heard of cleaning that hat in all my years at this school. I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner, I was still thinking about Peeves and the new song he's come up with about a young lad named Percy Wetmore. Terrible story really, apparently the boy wet his pants and considering the most unfortunate last name he was given…" But his words were lost on the Professor because she was out of her seat and flying through the Great Hall.

The Albus and Minerva were very close, so close that as a precaution, they had codes. Codes such as "I went to visit the Hog's Head" meant come to my office, I have news. Or, "I need some more flu powder" meant we have a slight situation I need your help with. But Flitwick had not said that Dumbledore needed more flu powder or that he had visited a local pub. He'd said that the sorting hat needed cleaning which, unfortunately, meant that no one is to enter his office under any circumstances or we have a school wide emergency. Take your pick.

…

"It's the places," Harry agreed. "Piper loved the Forbidden Forest—she wanted to see it for herself. I remember reading in Isabelle's file that her favorite class was Transfiguration, which means—"

"Both girls were found in their favorite places," Draco finished. "That's a connection, but it's not a strong one."

"What could be stronger?" Hermione countered.

"Oh, I don't know, forensic evidence? Physical data? Something besides what the Minister might call 'circumstantial' would be lovely," Draco said bitterly. Harry had to admit he was right; it wasn't bulletproof.

"He's right, Hermione. We need something more," Harry said. She threw up her hands.

"I'm trying! But honestly, I've gone over everything twice and I rechecked mine and Macy's work. There isn't anything we've just happened to miss on the bodies. Not to mention I'm stuck with this psychopath all day complaining about stirring a potion and not adding anything to the table," Hermione reasoned. "It's something," she insisted. The Aurors looked at each other; Malfoy with a hint of humor in his face and Harry with only exhaustion.

"It's something," they agreed.

Jackson had reached the top.

…

Everyone has heard a train go by—it's loud, unpleasant, and it's hard to fight the urge to cover your ears. You've also probably heard a crying baby and it seems like the most gut-wrenching sound you've ever experienced after it continues for hours at a time. Or maybe it's the noise of fireworks erupting over your head that makes you want to pray to God for quiet. Nothing will compare to the soul-loosening eruption of Jackson Avery and the ear-shattering silence that follows.

While Jackson was riding the eagle up though the walls of Hogwarts, McGonagall was eating breakfast, Harry Potter was interviewing newly child-less parents and Hermione was fighting with Malfoy over a potion, Albus Dumbledore was staring at the body of a fifth year student. After sending his message to Minerva, he sat and held the girl's hand. He knew that an event like this would make the cover of every newspaper in the wizarding community and didn't want to have reporters and Aurors in his office just yet. He wanted to give her at least that much respect.

But when the troublemaking third year reached the top of that long spiral staircase and let out the most heartbreaking scream that the Headmaster had ever heard, he knew he could no longer wait for his best friend and confident.

Following the violation of peace, the school came to a stop. No one breathed in the Great Hall and the students still in their beds woke. Slowly, Jackson raised one finger and pointed at Elizabeth Mason's body that lay lifeless and crimson on his wooden desk.

"I'm so sorry, my boy. I fear your dreams will be stalked for many a night. I am truly sorry you had to see her," Dumbledore said, as kindly as any father.

Not all moments you remember. Not all are of them important. Many of them are beautiful.

But most are haunting.

**A/N: R and R! Let me know what you think and if you have any criticism. **


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I wonder what would happen if I started claiming I owned Harry Potter.**

**A/N: Two chapters in two days! That has got to be some kind of world record. **

Chapter 6

Nine Lives

"Professor, do you have anything to say about the body that was found on your desk this morning?"

"Headmaster, are all the victims your students?"

"Mr. Dumbledore, is this the third victim in the net of murders that have been reported from your grounds this month? Or are there more still undiscovered or unknown to the media?"

"What do you have to say for the safety of the students at Hogwarts?" a reporter screeched over the roar of the growing crowd that surrounded the Headmaster as he tried to escape them into the castle.

"Professor! Professor Dumbledore! Can we take a statement?" The wiry thin reporter tried to make her way to the front of the mass, but was lost in the herd of legs and over-sized microphones. Overhead, the stars still blazed and the sun hadn't quite yet made an appearance. The lines of the horizon were a deep gray, the darkness already suffering from the first few rays of light. "Can you tell us anything about Isabelle?" she screamed again, but her words only made it so far before they were balled up and thrown back down her throat. The greying man didn't turn to gaze back at the pod of people before carefully opening the doors and sliding inside to what used to be known as the safest place in the wizarding world.

…

"What the bloody hell do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione mumbled in frustration into the phone after she'd managed to retrieve it from her bedside table, but not before she knocked off several books and a glass of water. She turned and glanced quickly at the clock. "You do know what time it is, don't you?" She brought one of her hands to her face to wipe the sleep out of her eyes then cleanly swept her unruly hair behind one ear.

"Well good morning Granger, aren't you a box of chocolate frogs today," Draco droned into the receiver. She rolled her eyes.

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy, what does your majesty request?" she said sarcastically as she fumbled for her wand.

"That's better," he said, feigning politeness.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" her voice returning to its original tone as her fingers finally felt their way to her wand. Miles away Draco sighed and tore his eyes open to look at the bloody, violent sight just feet away from him. He stood in the Headmaster's office accompanied by several other agents working for the Ministry and he was the only one who was blatantly staring at the girl. He couldn't stop his gaze from shifting back to see the mangled web of hair; to look at the limp arm that hung stiffly down one side of the wooden desk. When he found his voice again he didn't even know how to begin to describe what he needed from her. One part of him wanted her stay as far away from the crime scene as possible. He never wanted her to have to see something so mangled and horrific; to have her dreams haunted by what was sure to haunt his for the rest of his life. Still, he knew she'd have to see it eventually and even though it would kill him later, he began to speak.

"I think you'll have to see it for yourself."

…

When Hermione and Draco finally got past the vultures that were circling outside the school, armed with their cameras and nosy microphones, they were met with complete and utter chaos. Students were being filed into long lines behind their designated Prefects who shouted directions over the noise.

"Third years the password has been changed to Metamorphmagus!"

"First years, follow me as best you can!"

The healer was heartbroken by how terrified they all looked, but only had a moment to take it all in before the Bloody Baron decided to fly right between her and Draco, sending a shiver over her skin. Draco looked back at her to make sure she was still there, and then firmly grasped her hand before pulled her through the activity up the stairs.

_Thank God he came down to meet me or I don't think I'd ever have made it through this…_

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed her partners eyes trying to capture hers, the usually stormy grey in them had calmed and all that was left was a soft mist.

"Are you ready?" he asked, afraid to hear her answer. The last thing he wanted was for her to see this.

"Is it really—" she started.

"Yes," his voice confident and sure.

"But are you sure—"

"Granger, it's horrific. You don't have to go in. I'll take the picture, really good ones! You'll be able to see every inch of the crime scene," he pleaded with her. She narrowed her eyes.

"You think I can't handle it," she spat. He shook his head.

"Hermione, if you can, you're more seriously messed up than I thought." Part of her wanted to give in and just go back to the Ossuarium. Honestly, the way he was staring at her was putting her on edge, but she knew that seeing the girl in person… It was an insight she couldn't pass up. In the end, the decision was made for her. Before she could say anything the door was opened and Harry stepped outside, hoping to get some fresh air. He knew that Draco hadn't wanted Hermione in the room; hell, _he _didn't want her in there. He didn't know where Malfoy's protective nature was coming from, but he was glad that he had it—he couldn't always be there for his friend and she needed someone to watch out for her. So when he saw that they were standing in the entrance, in the perfect position to see inside in the event that the room was revealed by a regretful Harry Potter, he moved to block her view.

But it was too late.

…

"Oh my…" Hermione whispered as the most horrible sight she'd ever seen filled her periphery. Draco turned at gave Harry a look filled will malice and the Chosen One cursed under his breath and shrunk back into the room, closing the door. Draco turned his attention back to the healer, but saw that the damage was already done and he sighed, following behind her as she stepped through the wood frame into the office.

Elizabeth Mason lay, center stage, on the desk of Albus Dumbledore. Surrounding her there was a flock of coroners and you couldn't go two seconds without seeing a camera flash. There were no papers on the ground or books thrown from their shelves. In fact, the room was in complete order save the ghastly dead student that held the attention of everyone in the room.

As Hermione stepped closer to the girl, she could see why Draco had not wanted her to come. It was not that there was simply a corpse with freshly dyed red hair and a scream sculpted on her face. It was that the girl was, in all physical ways, identical to the very alive healer standing over her.

"What the bloody hell…" she trailed off.

"I know, I know. It's you."

…

_I'm so sorry, my boy. I fear your dreams will be stalked for many a night. _

Jackson's world was spinning in front of him. The room had turned into a Ferris wheel, spinning around him, under him, inside him. He kept his eyes pinned to the floor ad tried not to cry, Dumbledore's words playing in his mind.

_I am truly sorry you had to see her._

He was acutely aware of someone trying to talk to him, but he couldn't look up or even move his head. His arms where made of stone; heavy and useless. His legs of glass; so close to shattering that he couldn't even consider twitching.

_I'm truly sorry._

"Jackson," the man said.

_Truly sorry._

"Jackson, can you hear me?" he tried again. "Do you need anything? Do you have anyone you can talk to?"

_Sorry._

"Mind if I sit with him?" a young witch asked, looking up at the grief counselor with her large eyes. The man didn't speak, just shrugged and went to tend to something else he thought his expertise was needed for, happy to have escaped the apparently paralyzed boy. The woman sat down next to Jackson, close enough that he could feel her heat flooding his frozen limbs.

She didn't say anything. She only breathed with him, watching the coroners and the Aurors bustle around the crime scene. As they sat in that silence, Jackson began to feel the room slow until it was in focus again. Until he could clench his fists and no longer hear the words of the Headmaster.

Before that moment, everyone had tried to shake him out of his head. They had told them that something similar happened to them once when they were little or asked him about his favorite dessert or even tried to explain the gruesome sight that he had seen to him. It wasn't really what they were saying that was the problem, although he would argue that someone telling him the details of a murder didn't really help matters. It was that they were saying something at all. It was that they were trying to communicate with him through words when he couldn't comprehend any of their meaning.

It wasn't until Hermione, a kind, gentle hearted genius that had seen too much in her life and was starting to chip away at the edges, simply sat down with the boy, hours after he'd experienced his moment, and spoke to him. Not through words, but through the language she knew he would understand.

Silence.

…

Hours later, after the body had been Apparated to the Ossuarium and the office was all but empty, Hermione moved to stand up. Jackson reacted to her intentions and shot a hand out to grab her robes.

"Don't leave," he pleaded. "There's no one else."

"I'll be right back," she promised and he slowly released her. She glided over to where Draco was waiting for her, looking anxious to get the hell out of there.

"Ready?" he asked, not waiting for a response as he grabbed her waist and pulled her through the office.

"No!" she protested. "No, I'm not." He frowned. Hermione eyes flicked back over to where Jackson was sitting, realization dawning on him like a sleepy fog.

"You can't be serious," he said, knowing full well that she was.

"I just saw a corpse that had been given Polyjuice Potion so she would look like me. So, really, I saw me. Dead. On that table over there."

"You know, you have looked better. Personally, I think you went a little overboard with the hair dye and that face you're making… Not very becoming on a lady," he joked. She gasped at him, shocked and then prompting kicked him in the leg.

"Oi! Okay, okay. I'll talk to Dumbledore."

…

Late that night, when Hermione and Draco finally got back to the Ossuarium to check on Macy before going back to their respective homes, they were surprised to see smoke wafting up the stairs. Suddenly there was a loud explosion and Draco rushed down the stairs two at a time, closely followed by Hermione and her new shadow.

"Macy! Macy what happened?!" she yelled through the blackening air. She was removing her robe to reveal her muggle clothes when the alarms began to go off and she leaned down to cover Jackson's face with the cloth.

"_Attention residents. We have detected a fire hazard in the lower levels. Healers, please secure your patients using protocol and wait for further instructions,_" the voice broadcasted throughout the halls of St. Mungo's. "_As a precaution, all doors have been sealed."_

"Bloody hell," she coughed. "_Bombarda_!" The door blew off its hinges and the trio burst into the morgue.

"Macy! MACY!" Hermione shouted above the sirens that seemed to be getting louder. She could see the witch frantically trying to wave out the flames that were coming out of the cauldron. "Macy! _Are you a witch or not_?!" she thundered and Malfoy pulled out his wand.

"_Glacius_!" he said over the roar that echoed inside her skull. The water particles in the air froze and the fire became encased in ice. They all were silent for a few beats until the alarms quieted and the smoke started to thin. All three of them turned from the roasted, unusable potion to stare at the wide-eyed forensic anthropologist.

"Sorry," she squeaked. Draco let out a breath.

"I'll get the leeches."

...

Lucius was pacing. He made sure his steps made no sound on the cold floor and his breath was no louder than a breeze. He was waiting. He was waiting for Ron to return and tell him everything went as planned. Not the death, he knew the girl was dead. Hell, the whole country knew about Elizabeth. He needed to know if the potion had worked. Outside, the wind whispered and the snow that fell was soft as a kiss. Finally, a low drawl broke the peace.

"He has arrived, Lucius," Voldemort said just outside the entrance as the red-headed boy was led in by Narcissa.

"Darling, wait outside," Lucius told her, as gently as he could. She lowered her wand from Ron's back, closing the door. Ron sucked in a sigh of relief and sank to the floor, too drained to stand. "Did it work?" he asked, almost afraid for the answer.

"It worked. I don't know how, but it did."

"She looked like Granger?" Ron nodded.

"And you? You remembered to take the potion?" he insisted.

"I took it. I only forgot the one time because—"

"That doesn't matter now," Lucius said, sounding as small as he felt. "Thank you. I know this isn't… Ideal."

"_Ideal_? You're damn right it's not _ideal_. I've killed three people! _Three people!_ I know that's not a lot for you Death Eaters but it is _three people!"_ he cried. "I've had three girls beg for me to stop. I've had three girls die from my hand!" He waited for Draco's father to say something. To say _anything._ But he only stared at the shell of a man who was framing his son for murder.

"Look at it this way Mr. Weasley," Lucius began. "It's the life of Fred you're protecting. It's the life of George. It's your parents, Molly and Arthur. It's Percy. It's Bill. It's Charles. It's Ginny." He met Ron's eyes carefully. "It's you." He stood in silence until Ron met his. "When you look at it that way, my boy, it's _nine _people you're _saving_."

**A/N: Please leave comments—I love to hear what you guys have to say! I'm still looking for a beta and if anyone is interested, let me know! Thanks for reading.**


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